


Coffee in the Morning

by thinkzebrasfirst



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Blind Date, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2016-06-22
Packaged: 2018-07-15 09:22:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7216750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thinkzebrasfirst/pseuds/thinkzebrasfirst
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Hi, are you Geno?</p><p>The man looks up from his book, brown eyes comically wide.  He blinks at Sid and Sid sees the earbuds in the man’s ears for the first time.  </p><p>“Sorry?” His accent is thick and Sid thinks it’s Russian.  It’s weird Nealer didn’t mention that.  </p><p>“Are you Geno? Nealer’s friend, um, James Neal, he sort of took it upon himself to play matchmaker?”   He trails off, a niggling doubt in the back of his mind that he’s just made a fool of himself in this coffee shop and now can never come back here ever again.  </p><p>“Oh! Geno, yes!”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coffee in the Morning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HannahJane](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HannahJane/gifts).



> Hi HannahJane! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy your gift!

Sid’s late. 

He hates being late, but Nealer being Nealer, decided that his blind date should be at Starbucks of all places, which is stupid considering there’s practically one on every corner of downtown Pittsburgh. He was halfway through his coffee order when he saw the text from Paulie telling him that James was an idiot and it was the Starbucks on Market Square and not Sixth Avenue. So he had to make a complete fool of himself to the poor barista then run his way to the Square, apologizing profusely to everyone who thought he was a complete madman. 

He readjusts his backpack on his back, slowing as he sees the Starbucks sign. His breath comes in short pants and he tries to surreptitiously unstick his shirt from his back. His biggest history textbook dug into his shoulder and the weight of his bag reminds him of all the work he still has to do. He should be studying now, and he would’ve cancelled the date to focus on midterms, but Nealer had refused to hand over the guy’s number so Sid couldn’t do exactly that. 

He pulls out his phone and scrolls through the text from Nealer one last time, mentally reading off the list: tall, dark hair, his name is Geno. Initially Sid rolled his eyes at Nealer’s vague description but when he pressed for more details all he got was “Well, he’ll be sitting alone, and how many people could that be?” Sid eats alone all the time so he doesn’t really get what Nealer means, but he goes along with it anyway. 

He checks his appearance in the front camera of his phone, and, well, he’s looked worse. His cheeks are too flushed and he’s sweating a little but he’s already seven minutes late, so this is as good as it's going to get. If Geno can't handle him being a little sweaty then he's not sure the relationship will go beyond coffee. 

He opens the door and immediately inhales the scent of coffee and pastries. It's a comforting scent, too exotic to remind of him of home, but comforting nonetheless. He spares a glance at the pastry counter, quietly hoping they’ll have chocolate croissants, because no matter what Flower says about them being shams of the real thing, they’re delicious. 

He scans the crowded cafe, the normal mass of students taking over a majority of the tables, a steady chatter echoing throughout the space. He examines every face as quickly as he can and recites the list in his head. Tall. Dark Hair. Named Geno. He shifts nervously when there's no one that matches Geno's description. He looks table by table, hoping he overlooked him the first time, but still comes up empty. It's okay, he rationalizes to himself, he doesn't need the distraction. He's just glad he didn't mention anything to Taylor, sisterly threats of violence were nice at times but it's better she doesn't know. 

He turns to the counter, because even if he got stood up, he’s still getting his croissant. Maybe two, because nothing fixes a bruised ego better than chocolate. He forces himself not to turn his head and search for him again, orders a coffee and only one croissant, because he does have some self restraint. He's adding sugar to his coffee when a gaggle of girls stand up, jostling the man behind them with their bags. That’s when Sid sees him. Tall. Dark hair. Geno. He walks over slowly, his heart pounding in his chest. Tall. Dark hair. 

“Hi, are you Geno?

The man looks up from his book, brown eyes comically wide. He blinks at Sid and Sid sees the earbuds in the man’s ears for the first time. 

“Sorry?” His accent is thick and Sid thinks it’s Russian. It’s weird Nealer didn’t mention that. 

“Are you Geno? Nealer’s friend? Um, James Neal, he sort of took it upon himself to play matchmaker?” He trails off, a niggling doubt in the back of his mind that he’s just made a fool of himself in this coffee shop and now can never come back here ever again. 

“Oh! Geno, yes!” Geno’s face breaks into a big grin and he clears half of the table for Sid to sit. Relief washes over him as he pulls out the other chair. He busies himself placing his food down and surreptitiously steals a look at Geno. Nealer wasn’t kidding, he really is tall, and lean in the way that Sid almost feels like he should split his croissant with him. Almost.

“Hi.” He says nervously and Geno chuckles and says hi back. Sid tears at the paper bag, mouth watering. He really does want to eat his croissant but he hesitates, because he doesn't really know the protocol on blind dates. 

“Eat, please.” Geno nods encouragingly at him and Sid decides to stop overthinking and takes his first bite. It’s a little stale if he’s honest, but it gives him something to do. 

“So, how you know James?” 

Sid swallows quickly. “I live with his boyfriend actually, which means I live with him too.” Geno smiles at that and Sid wants to make him do it again. “You guys have Art History together?” 

“Yes! Art History, is good class.” Geno shuffles his books off his side of the table quickly. “Think be easy because of pictures but little more difficult than think.” 

They talk easily, Geno leading most of the conversation so Sid can eat. He tells him about going fishing with his father back in Russia, cutting holes out of the ice trying to catch their dinner. His eyes light up when he mentions his mother which is reassuring. Sid’s mom always told him that you could never trust a man that was mean to his mother, because if he could be mean to her, he could be mean to anyone. Sid has a hard time believing that Geno could be mean to anyone. 

Geno’s in the middle of a story about swimming with a shark, which Sid hopes isn’t true for Geno’s own sake, when a man clad in a bright red sweatpants and the most hideous looking shirt that Sid has ever seen makes his way over to them, bumping into tables and calling out apologies along the way.  
“Zhenya!” He calls out loudly. 

Geno's eyebrows knit together and a spike of panic runs through Sid. Did Geno text this guy to save him from a bad date? He doesn’t remember Geno reaching for a phone at all but he could have missed it. 

Geno lets out an annoyed rush of words that Sid can’t place. It must be Russian and the other man must understand because his expression quickly goes from confusion to downright glee. 

“Zhenya! You didn’t tell me you were meeting a friend.” He lingers over the last word and gives Sid a quick wink. 

“I’m Sasha and you?” He sticks out a large hand and Sid can’t help but flinch back. Sasha’s certainly not shy. 

“I’m Sid.” He says slowly, wincing as his hand is crushed in a handshake. 

“Okay, enough.” Geno stands up and pokes Sasha in the side. “Bye now.” Sasha makes several noises of complaint as Geno pushes him away. 

“But! Sid, we talk later, okay?” Sid nods even though he has absolutely no intention of ever seeing Sasha again if he can help it. His final “Zhenya, you always did like them prett--” is cut off by a large grunt as Geno gives him a kick. 

“Sorry, Sid. Stupid friend you know, not right in the head.” Geno makes an exaggerated silly face and Sid laughs. 

“No, it’s okay. I’m friends with Nealer, remember?” 

Geno sits down again and rights the napkin dispenser that had tipped over in the ruckus. 

“Hey, I thought your name was Geno?” A flash of something goes over Geno’s face, an expression Sid can’t place. “He called you something different. Zhenya?” He trips over the foreign pronunciation and Geno’s face lights up again. 

“Oh, is a nickname, yes? Russian friends call each other these names, mine is Zhenya. Geno easier for Americans.” 

“I’m Canadian.” He replies automatically. 

“Easier for Canadians too.” 

Sid ducks his head, he has to admit that his pronunciation was pretty bad compared to Sasha’s. He’d like the chance to learn though. Geno would be a good teacher. Sid’s phone buzzes on the table. Startled, he nearly knocks over what’s left of his coffee in his rush to silence it. 

“Is okay if you answer.” Geno says with an easy smile.

Sid spares a quick glance at the message and sees it’s from Nealer and rolls his eyes. He has the worst timing. “No, it’s fine. It’s just Nealer.” Geno’s eyebrows knit in confusion, he must not have heard him. “Nealer, oh right you have a different nickname for him, Nealsy? He said he liked that you called him that.”

“Oh!” Geno claps his hands together in acknowledgement. “Yes, course, Nealsy, not hear you, people behind me loud.” 

Sid doesn’t remember any noises but Geno’s smiling right at him and he can’t help but smile back. He puts his phone face down on the table. He feels a little guilty ignoring him, after all Nealer did set them up, but Nealer can wait for the gossip a little longer. 

He’s still smiling like an idiot and Geno’s doing the same. They sit there and stare at each other for a few moments before Sid’s phone buzzes again, angry and impatient as it rattles against the table. He glances at it and bites his lip with worry. A sharp inhale comes from across the table and he can't help but look up apologetically. 

“Uh, are you sure you don’t mind?” Sid gestures to his phone. 

“Say ok, Sid.” 

“Right, right. I’m just gonna-.” He trails off as Geno stands up, brushing crumbs from his shirt. “No!” Sid says too loudly. Geno looks up quickly, tilting his head. “Are you leaving?” He’s not proud of how high his voice went at the end of his question but this isn’t a time for pride. 

“Hungry, Sid. Think I’m get croissant. You want?” Geno smiles at his nod. “Be back, don’t go, okay?” Sid watches him leave, shamelessly staring. 

His phone vibrates for what feels like the hundredth time and he silently curses Nealer with every buzz. 

_sid im so sorry_  
_:(_  
_sid_  
_siiiiid_  
_he’s not coming_  
_said he wants to reschedule tho!!!!_  
_squid squiddo r u sitting all alone_  
_thats not healthy bro_

His stomach drops. Geno didn’t show. Why didn’t this guy say anything? Why go along with the lie? He can feel the bile in his throat and rubs his hands against his pants unconsciously. He can’t believe he was so stupid, the guy must have just felt bad for him because he got stood up. Geno’s still at the counter, well, fake Geno. He eyes the door even though there’s no way he can make it out of the labyrinth of tables unnoticed. His phone buzzes again with another sad face from Nealer but locks it again. He’s got to come up with a story, he knows the second he sets foot in the apartment that Nealer will have told everyone and they’ll be waiting for a full report, complete with every tragic detail. He’s working the scenario in his head and he settles on that he went to the wrong Starbucks then got all the messages then went to class. Easy. Sure, he was stood up, but he stood the other guy up too, even if it was by accident. 

“Got last chocolate!” He comes back with a big grin on his face and Sid desperately wishes he was smiling for different reasons. He notices Sid packing up his stuff and his smile disappears slowly. “Sid, what wrong?” 

He’s an idiot that’s what wrong. But he can’t bring himself to say that, reflexively silencing himself, people don’t like it when he says that about himself. 

“What’s your real name?” His voice catches despite his best efforts. 

Geno’s frozen, eyes wide, with a hangdog look on his face. Sid doesn’t know what he expects Geno to do but he feels a vicious stab of happiness that he caught Geno off guard for once. 

“Evgeni. Close enough, yes?” Sid’s stony expression is enough of an answer. “Sorry, Sid. Not mean to lie but--.” He cuts himself off when Sid’s expression is unchanging. “Just sorry, Sid.” 

Sid’s curiosity gets the best of him as he watches Evgeni slump down in his chair. He doesn’t seem like he wanted to hurt Sid or make fun of him. “But what?” 

Evgeni looks up hopefully. “Well, beautiful man come to table say ‘I’m here for date’-”

“I did not say that.” Sid says in a huff. 

“You say ‘Are you Geno?’ and I think for you, I’m anyone.” 

Sid feels the blush warm his cheeks and he sits down without thinking. Things like this don’t happen to him, mysterious foreign strangers belong in his mother’s romance novels, not a downtown Starbucks. Evgeni could have done it better but it was kind of sweet if you thought about it, the kind of stories that people tell to their grandkids. 

“You eat alone?” Is what he ends up blurting out. Normally he’d feel a little silly when Evgeni lets out a laugh but he finds he doesn’t mind it. 

“Yes, Sid. I’m hungry. Need food. Don’t need people to eat, Sid.” He says gently. 

“Oh.” 

“Hmm, Sid, maybe have idea, yes?” Geno leans forward conspiratorially, beckoning him closer. “Maybe not have to eat alone anymore? Eat here, study here, every day with school. Always room at table for beautiful man.” He nudges the forgotten chocolate croissant toward Sid. “Maybe start today?” 

Sid checks his watch. He’s dangerously close to missing his class. The confliction must show on his face because Evgeni reaches for Sid’s phone instead. 

“Here, I’m give you my number. You take time, decide if you come back.” Sid unlocks his phone and hands it to him. Evgeni pokes his tongue out in concentration as he enters the number and hands the phone back. 

Sid jams it in his back pocket, picking up his bag with no small amount of effort, Evgeni eyeing him appreciatively. He waves goodbye and nods at Evgeni’s own goodbye. 

He makes it around the corner before he pulls out his phone, scrolling through his contacts list, wondering how in the hell you spelled Evgeni. He over scrolled to the G section and there was ‘Geno’ followed by as many heart emojis that could fit on the line. 

_See you at 11:30 tomorrow?_

_This is Sid btw._

**See you then sid))))))) ******


End file.
